Another Day, Another Enemy
by AntithesisofanAntihero
Summary: This FE fanfic takes place two hundred years after the end of Eliwood's adventure. His descendant, Erian, must overcome great challenges and trials to find the person he really is inside.
1. Chapter 1

Another Day, Another Enemy  
  
*Note* I do not own Fire Emblem, but I DO own all original characters in it.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"The return of Dragons to this world was not completely halted, but merely hindered. Unbeknownst to the men and women who fought to defeat Nergal and his creations, perhaps even to Nergal himself, a second gate existed, on an island where no man had ever set foot nor indeed seen, a gate to which no key was needed to open. Even the dragons were unknowing of this gate, and that protected our world. It is said to have been built by the hands of neither mortals nor dragons.  
  
"Two hundred years ago, the mortal Nergal, a powerful sorcerer, searched for the means to which he could have the power of the Dragons, the elder race, at his command. His power was such that he could create hordes of "Morphs", creatures neither human nor otherwise, from his own life force. These morphs served as his own army, and powerful they were. They slew thousands of men, alongside the countries that Nergal was able to manipulate. Peace balanced on the edge of a pin, with the countries of Bern, Darin, Ostia, and many others feeling renewed animosity. And in his determination and power, dragons were on the verge of being summoned back to this world by Nergals cold hands. All looked bleak, but the son of the Lord of Pherae, Eliwood, was able to push back this tide of darkness before it could consume them.  
  
"Lord Eliwood, combined with his comrades Lady Lyn, a noble plainswoman of Lycia and master swordsman, and Lord Hector, brother to the Lord of Ostia, a mighty and unrivalled axe fighter, were able to defeat Nergal. They traveled the continent for months, recruiting powerful soldiers and slowly pushing Nergals forces back. Eventually, they came to the final battle of Dragons Gate and, joined by the Archsage Athos, a legendary figure, defeated Nergal.  
  
"But this was not to be the end of their trials. With Nergals' last breath, he completed the lethal ritual and from Dragon's Gate, the Children of Flame appeared. Three mighty red dragons, powerful even for their race, appeared from the swirling miasma. One of Eliwoods companions, a name lost to history, had an extraordinary power, and sent two of the fiery beasts back from whence they came. Drained of power, this person slipped out of consciousness. Eliwood, Hector and Lyn drew their weapons, and after a mighty battle, brought the monster down.  
  
"This was all two hundred years ago. Those who witnessed the event are long since dead, and the only things left of them are the statues which were built after they died."  
  
"Hah, big deal, I could have killed those scum dragons myself." I laughed.  
  
"Be patient, young master Erian." Replied my mentor Alisanor "You are but a youth, stubbornness and limitless energy are your only true strengths, and even those are in question."  
  
"But a youth my ass!" I spoke. I was twenty one summers old, yet these people treated me like a kid, unknowing and foolish. Maybe I was, but I wasn't about to let THOSE vultures hear it from me. "I'm half your age, but I can already defeat you in swordsmanship!"  
  
"Yes, indeed." Retorted Alisanor. "Yet you are rash and reckless, if you were in a war, you would be the death of your men and yourself."  
  
"Don't give me that bullshit about war." I snorted. I may have been an heir to the throne, but I didn't give a rats ass about wars or diplomacy or anything like that. I was planning on giving up my throne and going to live where I didn't have to make choices. I only cared for one person: Myself. Selfish, but in this day and age, you have to look out for number one.  
  
I ran my fingers along the hilt of my blade. The cold metal was a strange comfort to me, as my fingertips glazed the end of the hilt, feeling the golden jewel embedded at the end. One bonus to being a prince was I got to wield Durandal, the "Legendary Dragon Slayer." Oops, did I say 'bonus'? I meant complete pain in the ass. The thing was blunt as a rusty kitchen knife, and about as useful. A year ago, I led an expedition to rescue a bunch of pheasants from a group of bandits, and the damned sword nearly got me killed when it couldn't even bludgeon my foe to death! Luckily, I brought my *other* sword, something a little more useful than a blunt longsword. I unsheathed it and butchered the bastard before he could divorce my head from my body. MY sword was much stronger. Hah. To think this weapon killed dragons? Maybe two hundred years ago, but now it's just a rusty blade.  
  
"Get lost, old man." I snapped as Alisanor glared at me evilly. "I'm going to go train."  
  
A hah! What do you think? Eh? Eh? What an asshole, huh? Well looking forwards to writing more of this book. See you 'round! -Mattius2k04 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Sweat barely dripped from my forehead, yet I was two hours into my training. Grassed bent beneath my buckled boots, making a soft feeling of natural carpet which was relaxing to my otherwise alert nerves. I breathed in deeply, the clean, fresh air providing new energy with every breath. Seizing up my opponent, I prepared to launch an attack. Running my fingers along Firestarter, my longsword, I slowly felt the hilt and closed my gauntleted fingers around it. Clasped to my side, I prepared to use the momentum of my full swing to crush the guard of my sparring partner.  
  
"Keep your feet apart, or you'll lose your balance!" Advised my mentor, a broad-shouldered knight by the name of Kalin. His brown eyes and hair matched perfectly, and the scars running along his cheeks and his forehead merely accentuated his power. His gaze was enough to stare down most of the bravest men. But I wasn't just brave.  
  
"Don't tell ME what to do, old man!" I warned, but moved my feet back slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice. I seized the initiative, dashing forwards and swinging my sword with all my strength. I was surprised by the speed to which he deflected the blade, but I countered regardless. Reversing my swing, I brought it over my head and used my momentum to dash it downwards towards his neck. He ducked under the blow, and with the blunt end of his lance, caught my stomach hard. I gasped in shock, and fell backwards from the blow. Bastard was too fast, but I knew I was much faster.  
  
"Not bad, not bad at all, just not fast enough." Laughed Kalin. That pissed me off. I was way faster than most punks my age and he knew it.  
  
"Oh yeah?! We'll see!" I let my anger take control and launched a savage counter attack, swinging and thrusting the point of my blade forwards. He successfully blocked or dodged all of the attacks, but I was pushing him back into an old oak tree. I thought I was on the verge of finally defeating him, but I should have seen it coming.  
  
"Stop using your anger!" Kalin cautioned. Like I said, I was too pissed to even care about his safety. He backed up into a tree and I foretasted victory and swung my sword as hard as I could. He stepped swiftly aside at the last moment and my blade embedded itself in a tree. *Dammit!* I thought. I tried to withdraw the sword with all my strength, but to no avail. I felt cold metal press against my neck, and knew I'd lost. Again. To the same person.  
  
"You should have taken my advice." Spoke Kalin in an annoying I-told-you- so voice. "If this were a battlefield, you'd be dead long ago."  
  
I snorted in reply. "I went easy on you. Didn't want you to know I had surpassed you. I'm going to go somewhere else, I'm bored." I knew he was better, and so did he, but after every lesson I got better and stronger and faster. One day, I'd be the finest knight in all the known world, and he'd be asking me for help.  
  
He didn't reply as I walked swiftly away. Once I got at least two walls between me and him, I clenched my teeth hard and pounded against a wall so hard it cracked a bit, which hurt me a lot more than it was supposed to. Clutching my hand in anger, I kicked out against the wall and turned and stomped off.  
  
I hated losing. Absolutely, positively hated it. It always made me feel so weak, and so useless, and I knew I wasn't. I was already renowned for my skills. But losing, damn it, it was so humiliating! I was the son of the King of Pherae, the most powerful country in the Lycian league! It was us who destroyed the armies of Darin fifty years ago. It was us who conquered Darin one month later. It was our hands that stopped dragons. Yet I always lost my duels with Kalin. I was so into hating myself for my loss, that I didn't even notice when Lily walked and stopped in front of me until I nearly bowled her small frame aside.  
  
"U-um, Sir Erian?" She stuttered. She was a new servant to me, only working here for a month or two. Shy and weak were the best ways to describe her. Oh well, at least she was attractive, otherwise I would never had hired her. Still, I wouldn't sully myself by sleeping with a useless pheasant-born. She wasn't worth me.  
  
"What do you want, slave?" I replied through anger. Talking to me when I was angry was like insulting an Ogre. "Make it quick, would you? I'm trying to keep myself from being bored. Speak!"  
  
"W-well, the King requests your..." She coughed and drew herself up. "...presence in the Throne Room."  
  
"Is that all?" I replied impatiently.  
  
"Y-yes..." Lily replied.  
  
"Then get out of my way and I'll do it!" I shouted back. Lily kept her eyes down, like a good slave, and hurried away. I thought I heard her whimper a bit. Surprisingly, I felt a little bad after talking to her that way. But still, she was a slave, nothing more. I dashed off to my father after reflecting on these thoughts and making sure I had no regrets about my actions.  
  
When I got to the Throne Room, I knew by the expression on my fathers face that it couldn't have been good. 


End file.
